My wife, Lex, and I had gone back and forth about it for years. From what our other couple friends told us, it was impossible to feel 100% ready to get pregnant and start a family. There was no 'right' time, but every era could be the wrong one. This year, though, Lex got offered a great position at a stable company, we bought our first house with two extra bedrooms, and things finally felt...if not 'right,' at least 'good enough.'
Since we were both cis women, though, we had some decisions to make. We both knew I'd be the one to carry the baby. Lex loathed the idea of being pregnant and had a high-intensity job that she adored, while I worked from home and had always imagined myself carrying a baby.
So that just left the other half. The donor. Lex had a brother, but I couldn't stand him, and the idea that our kid could have even a trace of his personality repulsed me. The few male friends we had were married to our female friends and it felt too weird to us to have half-siblings for kids. We'd have to figure out what to tell them when they ended up with the same nose. Way too odd. There were plenty of sperm banks here in California, but they all felt impersonal and strange, not to mention the added expense of artificial insemination.
Then there was Jesse.
He was the son of our next-door neighbors, in his early twenties, starting grad school in the fall, staying here for the summer to watch the house and the dogs while our neighbors traveled Europe for their millionth wedding anniversary. He had tawny blond hair with sun highlights, cheekbones that could cut through glass, and great-grandparents who were still alive and healthy in their late 90s. An ideal candidate.
Plus, when Lex and I tanned in the backyard, we often caught him staring at us while he mowed the lawn or cleared the gutters. He was always respectful to us, never flirtatious or invalidating our marriage. When he spoke, he was intentional with his words, thoughtful, sweet. Once, he even brought us sun tea that he'd made. There weren't a lot of healthy, polite men his age at all, much less accessible to us.
On a Saturday morning -- in July, because Spring birthdays were the best -- we got ready to try our luck with him. Lex and I were both bisexual and had spent most of our 20s dating guys before meeting each other, so we knew what to do, more or less.
"Savannah, stay still!" Lex admonished me as she applied my voluminous false lashes that made my eyes both sexier and more innocent. "Now what are you going to wear?"
I turned myself into a statue and replied, "Nothing? That would probably get the job done."
She shoved me on the arm. "Take this seriously."
"I am! But I don't want to take it too seriously and freak him out," I said. She finished doing my eyelashes, so I told her, "I figured I'd just wear a sundress. Maybe that one with the open back; it's a little too short and I don't wear a bra with it. Sexy but not too much."
"Good idea." She stood up, still wrapped in a towel from her shower. "I was thinking those shorts that show off my butt -- the maroon ones -- and a tank top. Nothing crazy. You're the sexy one, anyway."
I protested, "You said you'd help!"
"I'm going to follow his lead. I want to make sure things go as smooth as possible," she explained as she stood up to get ready.
Lex dropped her towel and I took a second to admire her body, which I always tried to do when she was naked. The couples' counselor we'd seen before we got married told us both that appreciating the little things mattered almost as much as the big things. Not that her tits or ass were little things. Where I was lithe and toned, Lex was curvaceous. She'd worked as a plus-size model for a few years back in college and she still could if she wanted to. With more relaxed work hours, she was tan and rested with a crystal smile.
Of course, she'd say I was the sexier one, but that's how relationships are. She loved the way my thighs were strong and thick, loved the way she could hold my small but full breasts perfectly in her hands, and loved the way my long blonde hair framed my face. When we were out together, people usually assumed we were two straight girls out together until they saw us kiss.
Once we were both dressed, I kissed her softly on the forehead and said, "It's all going to be fine. Remember that if he says no, there are other options."
She gave me a smile/grimace because we both knew that, for now, there really weren't any other options if Jesse rejected us. We'd have to go through the donation process, which would take us forever considering how type A we both got when it came to major life decisions. This was the one way we'd agreed on easily. It seemed intuitive, natural, and maybe even fun if we handled it correctly.
We left our place and walked next door. I'd brought a plate of brownies, which now felt exceptionally stupid in my hands. Lex knocked on the navy blue door and it opened after only a few seconds. Our neighbor's ancient golden retriever greeted us with a slow wagging tail. As Lex knelt down to say hello, I looked up at Jesse. His amber eyes took a quick look over us both, lingering on the hemline of my skirt near the tops of my thighs.
"Sav, Lex, hey." He smiled; it was bright and genuine and welcoming. "What can I do for you?"
"Ah, I brought you some brownies," I stammered nervously, not sure how to broach a topic like 'I want you to get me pregnant.'
Jesse chuckled and took the plate from me. "I assume these are in exchange for some kind of favor? Need your pool filter cleared out again?"
"A favor, yeah," Lex replied. "Mind if we come in?"
"Shit, yeah, of course. I should've asked already." He stepped aside so that we could enter the sizable baby blue house. "Mom would throw a fit."
"She definitely would," I agreed.
